Sometimes, Cody hates being right. Five seconds in and this job is already a disaster. Judging by his glare, the anemic twink in the doorway agrees.
“You must be Simon.” Cody holds out a hand, clinging to professional niceties. Exhaustion grates behind his eyes, and he wants to just grab his bags and turn around. But he has a fucking job to do. “Is my species going to be a problem?”
Simon ignores the hand. His stillness is at odds with the softness of his pale complexion, the light brown hair brushing his throat. He doesn’t look a day over twenty. The chandelier above frames him like a halo—but the cold scent of death is anything but angelic.
Nothing about Simon looks like someone who needs a bodyguard.
His blatant distaste for the situation is almost funny. Almost. Guarding a vampire is already a disaster. A defiant vampire will be impossible.
“Not a problem at all.” Simon’s tone turns polite. Almost friendly. “Because you’re not staying. There seems to have been a mistake.”
“Simon,” a voice calls from another room.
That must be the sire. Simon’s hand whitens on the doorknob, so tight Cody’s surprised the metal doesn’t bend. Defiance still sharpens his glare, but he acquiesces like a wolf obeying his alpha’s growl.
“Fine,” Simon says coolly. “Wipe your shoes.”
Cody takes a deep breath to settle himself, bristling with awareness of Simon’s gaze. He doesn’t have much patience for asshole vampires at his best, and this definitely isn’t his best. The full moon is barely past. Cody spent the past few days on mission prep with Tobias before flying over. Private flight, of course. His bags would never get through security. Still more people than Cody wants to interact after the full moon.
But Cody has to prove his self-control to Tobias—and to himself. He wipes his shoes on the mat without complaint, hefts his bags, and enters the vampire’s lair. Instinct snarls silently as Simon locks the door behind him.
“This way,” Simon says. He doesn’t move as quickly as Cody expects from a vampire. Maybe he’s slowing down on purpose.
Their destination is down the hall, past the spacious foyer. Cody pays close attention, comparing everything to the blueprint he studied with Tobias. The few windows are boarded up, which is good from a security standpoint. New Atwood cameras andalarms glitter in various corners, and there should be more out of sight.
When the cab had pulled up to the front gate, Cody’s first glimpse of the property confirmed many of his fears. Some vampires are tolerable. The ones that get over themselves and adapt to modern life. Simon, however, lives forty-five minutes outside the suburbs. The mansion backs onto deep private woods, and the nearest neighbor is out of sight.
Cody isn’t sure whether the lack of neighbors is a good or bad sign.
The parlor is brightly lit and eclectic. Still lifes and empty frames decorate the walls, and modern lamps clash with the old velvet furniture. Cody’s attention zeroes in on the second vampire, unfolding from the low couch.
This one makes Simon look practically cuddly. Dima rises with dangerous grace, every element of his body in effortless alignment. He smells more of dust than death. Cody’s wolf stirs at the dry scent, and he has to bite back a defensive growl. Fuck. Hopefully his face doesn’t show the strain of forcing himself down.
Simon glares poisonously between them, then takes the vacated couch.
“Hello, sir.” Cody shifts his bags to one hand, then decides against attempting a handshake this time.
Dima’s face comes alive with his smile. “Thank you for coming. I knew Tobias would deliver. Please, set those down.”
If Cody didn’t know better, he would think this was Dima’s house, not Simon’s. He sets the heavy duffels down. One holds mostly clothes, the other mostly weaponry. He has alicense for almost all of it. The rest, they don’t make licenses for. Paranormal jobs call for paranormal measures.
“You know Tobias?” Cody asks.
“By reputation,” Dima says. “I don’t know yours, though, beyond your… lupine nature. For obvious reasons, I need a fellow nonhuman to guard my fledgling.”
Fledgling. Vampires are fucking weird. Simon drapes one arm over the back of the couch. He looks poised to stab someone at any moment. Zero resemblance to a baby bird.
But Dima is the one paying Atwood, so Cody shouldn’t mention how fucking weird vampires are. “I’m Cody Weston, and I’ve been with Atwood for four years. Did Tobias forward my credentials?”
Dima waves a hand. “Yes, yes. Tell me more about the important things, though, before I leave my fledgling in your care. Do you have a pack?”
Cody can’t help tensing. His answer is a hell of a red flag. “No, sir.”
“That’s good,” Dima says to Cody’s surprise. “No conflict of loyalty.”
Ha. No, obeying his pack has never been Cody’s problem.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to survey the house and confirm protocols with Simon,” Cody says. Changing the subject might be rude, but he isn’t here for small talk, and definitely not small talk about himself.
